Shot through the heart

Each year in high school I plotted the perfect yearbook picture. I scrubbed the shit out of my face to ensure a clear complexion. I popped Lysine as if it were candy to guard against fever blisters. And I made sure to have a haircut no sooner than three weeks before the picture was taken.

And despite my planning, each year I was disappointed beyond consolation. The same could be said of today's feeling when I picked up my headshots. Regardless of my planning, and despite my satisfaction after the retouching, I left the store with the gut-digging feeling that no one in L.A. is going to cast me from a glimpse of such a blah shot.

No, I'm sorry, you can't be the judge. It's not that the picture is bad. It's that it's boring. And I wanted my first headshots in L.A. to be exciting. I wanted something that made me look, you know, hot. Yet what I have are pictures that portray me as "Student #3" or "1st Party-goer" in shows like That's So Raven.

I'm sure that once the money rolls in, I'll eat my first headshots and acquire new ones. I'll buy expensive face soap. I'll cover my lips with Zinc Oxide when I'm outside. I'll even pay top dollar for an expensive haircut. What I probably won't do, however, is favor my next photos anymore than the ones I have now.

Oh, the struggles of an actor...